Vulnerability

It is the act of being seen.

It's clear to me that hiding your true colors is a form of emotional tyranny.-

A flutter of orange represents my soul. Unable to fit the mold. Reminiscent a time of innocent growth.

White peonies grow as I dance near an open window. My untouched soul now saturated with hope.

The distance I feel, draws me to the teal of experiences that don't feel like home.

As the sun begins to set, the red I can't forget, seeps into my bones.

The dark blue of an ocean that rings true, brings a comfort that I wish to draw close.

To a whitening tone, I recognize that the acceptance of purple is what I call home.